


Three Chances

by how_about_no



Series: Chances [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 5+1 Things, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Flirting, Carnival, F/M, Ferris Wheels, High School, In a way, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, POV Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier Flirts, ha, in their last year at high school, it's obnoxious, it's structured like that i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_about_no/pseuds/how_about_no
Summary: “How’s the cutest boy in the world doing today?” He said loudly, half the corridor’s eyes snapping towards him in surprise. Eddie looked over at him and the smile he’d been directing towards Bill immediately turned into a grimace.“Fuck off, Richie.” He passed Richie and Bev, sharing a commiserating look with his friend as he went.“One day you’ll return my affections, my love!”“In your dreams!”ORRichie was a renowned flirt, but his main target was a boy that wanted nothing to do with him. Until he decides to give Richie three chances to prove that his feelings are genuine. Can he rise to the challenge?





	Three Chances

**Author's Note:**

> hello i usually don't write fics complete then post them all in one unless it's a one shot so haaa first time for everything i guess
> 
> i love these boys with all my heart
> 
> enjoy my reddies

The dull tone of the announcement speakers being turned off rang out in the corridor. Considering it wasn’t 1960, you’d think that technology would have gotten to the point where the speakers wouldn’t be crackly and fucking infuriating, but even in God’s year of 2018, Richie’s ears rang at the sound. He turned the code into his locker and opened it with a groan.

“Cheerful today, Tozier.” An amused voice came from his right. He peered around the locker door with a smile.

“Always, Miss Marsh. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morn’?”

Bev ran a hand through her short hair. She cut it off as an act of rebellion after Christmas, but claimed it was because she wanted it short for summer. Richie saw right through that shit though. He saw the satisfied smile she had on her face the first week when every boy and girl gave her shocked looks. She was renowned for being a ‘pretty girl’ and hated it. This was her way of taking back control and Richie loved her for it.

“You avoided my texts all weekend, ass bag.”

“I was sleeping.” _I listened to my parents shout abuse at each other and couldn’t bear to talk to anyone._

“Whatever.” Bev rolled her eyes, but Richie could see the concern there. She didn’t know much, but she knew enough. It didn’t matter anyway. They were nearly 18, in their last year in this fucking place, and leaving was just around the corner. Richie’s shitty neglectful parents didn’t matter when freedom was so close.

He grabbed the book he’d need for first period but didn’t bother for second because he and Bev nearly never attended. Shoving it in his worn leather satchel, Richie slammed his locker shut and looked over his shoulder down the corridor. He smiled at the sight.

Eddie Kaspbrak, an angel of a boy. He had those cute little red shorts on today, along with a baggy yellow t-shirt tucked into the front of them. He stopped wearing fanny packs about a year back, and Richie would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the look. He’d told the boy several times, and only got an eyeroll and snarky remark in return.

See, Richie and Eddie weren’t exactly friends. They went to the same elementary school, middle school, and high school, but were always in different circles. Didn’t mean Richie wasn’t completely obsessed, though. Eddie always hung around with the same people, Bill Denbrough and Stan Uris, plus Ben Hanscom when he came to their school last year. The only connection Richie had with their group was the fact that Bev and Ben were clearly infatuated with each other. He was determined to get the same thing with Eddie.

After years of flirting and hints, though, Richie was no closer to that dream.

 

_“Your hair looks fucking touchable today, Eds.” Eighth grade Richie exclaimed, one hand on his heart and the other on his forehead, feigning a swoon._

_“Don’t call me that!” Eighth grade Eddie turned bright red and ran in the opposite direction._

_“You’re so cute when you’re angry, Spaghetti.” Tenth grade Richie pinched Eddie’s cheek, completely ignoring whatever it was that actually made him mad._

_“You’re insufferable.” Tenth grade Eddie smacked Richie’s hand away with a scowl._

_“Go on a date with me?” Eleventh grade Richie asked Eddie out for the seventeenth time, the least dramatic of the bunch._

_“No!” Eleventh grade Eddie screeched, angry for having been asked the same question seventeen times._

_“Why?” Richie asked._

_“Because you’re obnoxious.” Eddie answered._

_“I’ll try not to be for you, baby, I swear!” Richie lied._

_“Fuck off, Richie.” Eddie sighed._

The thing was, at first Richie flirted with Eddie just to annoy him. He was adorable when he was red and flustered, and Richie got a chance to be annoying and try his one liners on him. Then Richie noticed how smart Eddie was. He noticed how when Eddie smiled it always started in the corner of his mouth before it reluctantly turned into a full grin like the boy had no control over it. He noticed how Eddie was endlessly protective of his friends, defending Bill’s stutter, Ben’s weight, Stan’s heritage. The kid was so small compared to practically everyone, but he wouldn’t back down if someone challenged him or his friends.

Richie noticed little things, like the way Eddie clutched his aspirator, the way he ran his fingers through his hair when he was nervous, the different polo necks he wore, the fucking _fanny packs_ for God’s sakes.

It was still fun, flirting with him. Eddie’s snarky retorts hurt a little more once the feelings became genuine, but it was a safe routine, one Richie had always been happy with. He’d started to get a little dissatisfied, though. The want was becoming stronger, and Richie’s flirting was just getting worse.

Eddie walked down the corridor, Bill by his side, with those fucking shorts and cute hair and button nose, and Richie felt his smile turn into a grin.

“How’s the cutest boy in the world doing today?” He said loudly, half the corridor’s eyes snapping towards him in surprise. Eddie looked over at him and the smile he’d been directing towards Bill immediately turned into a grimace.

“Fuck off, Richie.” He passed Richie and Bev, sharing a commiserating look with his friend as he went.

“One day you’ll return my affections, my love!”

“In your dreams!”

Richie sighed dramatically, leaning back against his shut locker, hand over his heart.

“You’re unbearable, you know that?” Bev smacked his shoulder, but there was laughter in her eyes.

“I’m a sweetheart, Bevvie.” He held his arm out, “Care for me to escort you to home room?”

“If you please, kind sir.” She took his arm and they made their way down the corridor, Richie’s interaction with Eddie all but forgotten. It was practically a daily occurrence after all.

*

“It was just as painful as it always is.” Bev said, flicking her lighter alight behind the bike shed at the side of the school. Richie laughed, holding his hand out for the lighter when she was done. She handed it over without taking her eyes away from Ben, which wasn’t a fucking surprise.

“You should quit it, Richie.” Ben said, “One day he’s going to punch you.”

“I could be into that.”

They all laughed, but honestly, Richie was completely serious. He’d take any attention Eddie would give him. This was beyond a cute little flirty crush, he was totally gone on the guy. He was so cute, and smart, and seriously witty. He matched Richie’s snark, which only Bev could also do. But Bev was off limits, and not really Richie’s type anyway. She was collected and grounded, and Richie liked firecrackers. He liked a challenge.

He took a drag of his cigarette, staring off into the field behind the school.

“Are you even listening?” Bev flicked him in the ear and he yelped.

“What the _fuck,_ dude?”

“We’re talking about the carnival.” Ben said calmly, as if Richie hadn’t just been _abused_ in front of his very eyes. “Are you going?”

“Abuse me, then expect me to answer questions?!” Richie smacked his lips together, breaking out his British Guy Voice, “I will nawt be disrespected, my chaps! Pip pip and cheerio!”

He made to stand up and leave, cigarette thrown on the floor as it had hit the filter, but Bev pulled him down with unsurprising strength.

“We’re meeting there at 7pm, but me and Ben are going to the diner first.”

“Why aren’t I invited to the diner? You know I love milkshakes.”

Ben blushed, and Bev gave him a pointed look. _Oh._

“My babies!” Richie pulled them both into his chest, then released Bev and gave Ben a nuggie, “You take care of my girl, Benny boy, or I’ll be getting my shotgun out.”

He released the short stack and made a shotgun loading sound with his mouth, miming aiming it at Ben with a glare.

“So manly.” Bev tipped her head back against the shed wall. Richie dug around in her jacket pocket to get another cigarette, since he ran out yesterday and hadn’t gotten any more. She didn’t react, other than moving her arm slightly so he could reach the pack.

“Seriously though, I’m happy for you fuckers.”

“Thanks.” Ben said, and Bev’s mouth ticked up into a slight smile.

Great, all his friends were paring up. Well, his only two friends were pairing up. He couldn’t help but think of Eddie, of the want curling in his stomach and becoming stronger every time Eddie so much as looked at him.

Richie needed to up his game.

*

The carnival was lit up with endless fluorescent lights, tinny music playing out that reminded Richie of Grease. People were milling about, cotton candy in hand, laughing and playing and chatting excitedly. One kid nearly ran into Richie’s knees, and apologised before skidding off in another direction. A panicked mother gave him an apologetic look, to which he just smiled and looked out at the carnival again.

There was a Ferris wheel on the other side of the field, the spider web like pattern inside it covered in red and pink LED lights. There were at least a dozen different games, with tonnes of huge teddies hanging up by the scruffs of their necks at the front of the booths.

He was early, leaving around half an hour before Bev and Ben were meant to meet him by the front entrance. His own company was good enough for him, so he paid the man by the entrance, got a stamp on his hand, and went into the carnival. He looked around for a game he might want to play and spotted a familiar face by the water gun booth.

“Stan the man!” Richie sidled up to the boy in a crisp shirt tucked into grey khakis.

“Richie.” Stan greeted less enthusiastically, but Richie took it in his stride. He gave the man at the booth two dollars, so he could play the game next to Stan.

“You know,” Richie started, picking up the water gun attached to a pipe running to a tank of water on the grassy floor, “I fucking hate clowns. This game is like therapy for me.”

“I just imagine it’s someone annoying’s face.”

“Who?” Richie aimed with one eye shut and took the pointed silence as answer enough. “I’m a treasure, Stanford. Just ask little Eddie Spaghetti.”

“I’m actually imagining Mr Jeffers, but your face would be good fuel for anger as well.”

The balloon above Stan’s clown face popped, and he put the gun down with a small chuckle. He pointed at the small prize he wanted. When Richie’s popped too, he saw that the price he chose was a small plastic crown. He himself picked a little plush Stitch toy.

“Nice choice, princess.”

“Prince.” Stan put the crown on with pride, “Or maybe a king.”

Richie laughed at the sight.

“Your majesty.” He bowed deeply, and Stan rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile there too. Richie took that as a victory. Getting people to smile was one of the few things he was actually good at, “Is Mister Kaspbrak here?”

“He’s somewhere with Bill. I needed some time alone.” He gave Richie a warning look, “I’d leave him alone if I were you, he’s in a bad mood.”

“All the more reason for me to see him! Catch ya later, Stanford.” He stuffed the Stitch toy in one of his denim jacket pockets.

“It’s Stanley.” Stan said, but Richie was already wondering away, deciding to wait by the entrance and form some ideas on how to get Eddie to talk to him this evening. He’d probably have to trap him, and he’d need Ben’s help.

6:47pm

13 minutes was plenty of time to form an amazing plan.

Once Ben and Bev arrived, hand in hand, Richie knew what he had to do.

“If this doesn’t work, you have to stop.” Bev said, completely serious, staring him down with too much ferocity for someone holding cotton candy. He considered his options. This was going to work, he had a lot of confidence in that, but if it went wrong and he couldn’t pursue Eddie anymore? Richie didn’t know what he’d do.

“Deal.” Richie eventually said. Ben’s eyebrows raised in surprise and Bev merely nodded. It was fine, though, because once Richie has Eds alone, he won’t know what hit him.

First, Ben texted Bill so their little group would meet them by the Ferris wheel. Then, Richie had to be in the same carriage as Eddie and convince him to go on a date. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

“They’re meeting us there in ten.” Ben put his phone back in his pocket, and Richie’s heart hit his throat. This was his final attempt. Final-final attempt. He was going to throw up.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Bev pointed at him.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Richie whispered to himself once Ben and Bev started walking towards the Ferris wheel, “ _Don’t fucking fuck this up.”_

*

Richie’s hands were clammy and rubbing them on his jeans did absolutely _nothing._ What if Eddie hated him more than he let on? What if he genuinely despised Richie? What if he threw up at the thought of him and Richie dating? What if he literally pushed Richie off the Ferris wheel when they reached the top because he thought he was such a douche bag?

“There he is. My beautiful boy!” Richie grinned with faux confidence when Bill, Eddie, and Stan walked up to them.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here.” Eddie hissed to Bill, who gaped.

“I didn’t know! I thought it was j-just Ben!”

Stan rolled his eyes and raised his eyebrow at Richie who gave him an innocent smile in return.

“How’s your evening going, princess?”

“Call me your majesty or don’t call me at all.”

“As you wish.” Richie said with another grand bow. He’d make a good royal. England should snap him the fuck up. If only Prince Harry were still single.

Eddie looked between them with his mouth wide open and brows furrowed. _What the fuck?_ His eyes said. Stan immediately smothered his smile at Eddie’s glare, but Richie’s simply widened. The boy looked fucking _edible._

His hair was windswept and ruffled, unlike Richie’s fucked up curls that looked like he’d been in a tornado no matter how much he tried to tame them. The red shorts were gone, in their place ripped blue jeans with a pink polo neck baggy around his hips. It wasn’t exactly fashionable, but Richie was practically drooling. He raked his eyes up and down the boy’s body openly. Everyone knew about his crush, anyway.

“I bagsy Bill.” Stan dragged the boy in question to his side, causing them both to nearly topple over. “I can’t deal with Richie, and Eddie is equally insufferable.”

“Excuse you!” Eddie’s voice was high pitched, offended, and Richie smothered a laugh.

“You l-literally just lectured u-us about the germs on the b-b-booths.”

“They’re cess pits of disgusting! It’s not my fault people sneeze on their hands then put them all over everything in here. Plus, we’re outside and do you have any idea how gross the air is round here? We’re close to the barrens, dickhead, that means piss and shit germs are floating around us! Don’t even get me started on that fucking Ferr-”

“Cute, cute, _cute!”_ Richie interrupted the lecture, pinching Eddie’s cheeks which were red from his rant. The boy in question slapped his hands away with a scowl.

“Fine! You don’t want to go on the Ferris with me, _Stan!_ Guess I’ll just suffer with Trashmouth over here.”

“Aw, you have a pet name for me.” Richie tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that fluttered when Eddie grabbed his wrist to drag him over to the ride entrance. He handed over three dollars and tapped his foot impatiently while Richie dug around for his money. He was still holding onto his wrist.

“So-”

“Don’t talk to me.” Eddie smiled at the woman who locked the bar over them. His arms were crossed, which wasn’t a surprise considering how much of a germaphobe he was. He probably wouldn’t be caught dead touching the bar that so many other people had touched.

“Talking is kind of my thing.” Richie adjusted his glasses, looking down to watch the floor get further away from them, “Asking me not to talk is like asking Garfield to like Mondays.”

“Of course, you reference Garfield you fucking weirdo.”

“Don’t worry, Eds, I know your anger comes from a place of love.”

“You wish.”

“I do.”

Eddie looked at him at that, brows furrowed. He looked away just as quickly, staring at his feet with his arms still crossed.

The wheel stopped when they reached the top, and Richie leant forward on the bar, staring out at the carnival and town around it. He was so sure he’d be able to flirt his way into Eddie’s good books as soon as they were alone, but something in his throat stopped him from talking at all. Having the object of his affections so close to him, close enough to feel the heat coming off his skin, made Richie unbelievably nervous.

He felt eyes on him and turned to meet an assessing gaze.

“What?”

“Why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

Eddie sighed like he was struggling to keep his cool, which Richie just found cute. He smiled slightly at the sight and watched as the boy tried to find words.

“You flirt and tease and- and- I don’t get why.” He looked genuinely confused, his bottom lip being gnawed on so much that the skin around it was white.

“Because I want to.” Richie explained, and at Eddie’s silence, he assumed the boy wanted more. He looked out again. He couldn’t look at Eddie while being genuine, “You’re cute and smart and I like flirting with you. You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Eddie stayed silent again. This was kind of uncharacteristic, considering he seemed like he enjoyed talking as much as Richie did.

“I kind of tricked you into coming here so I could get alone with you.” Richie continued, still not looking at him, “I can never get you alone.”

“Because I don’t let you.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and in the corner of his eye, Richie could see him uncross his arms and lean forward as well. His forearms hung over the bar.

 _Germs!_ Richie wanted to shout, _you’re touching germs for me!_

The wheel started moving again and Richie felt his heart start to break. This was his last chance, and Eddie still hated him.

He sighed, leaning back. He gazed at the side of Eddie’s face, admiring it from this close probably for the last time. Eddie would probably never let him get this close again.

“Three chances.” They were close to the floor when Eddie spoke again. “You have three chances to prove that you actually like me and that this isn’t some game to you.”

“How can I prove that?” Riche couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice.

“That’s for you to figure out.” Eddie leant back too, their shoulders brushing. Years of flirting, and all he needed to do was get the guy alone and talk to him? What a wasted life.

“And if I do?”

“Then,” Eddie’s jaw clenched, and he met Richie’s eyes, barely inches away, “I’ll go on a date with you.”

Richie could feel the small smile he’d had the entire time he’d been in Eddie’s company turn into a shit eating grin. He swung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders when they stopped, and the woman approached again.

“You’re not going to regret this, Eddie Spaghetti. I’m going to woo the _shit_ out of you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie rolled his eyes, a barely hidden smile on his face. He stood up as soon as the bar was removed and walked away without turning around, “Three chances!” He shouted before disappearing into the crowd. Stan and Bill hadn’t come off the ride yet, so he was clearly doing it for dramatic affect.

What a guy.

“Three chances.” Richie stood up, shaking his legs to get the feeling back in them, “I’ve fucking _got this.”_

 

CHANCE 1: PUBLIC DECLARATION

 

Casual flirting and cheeky remarks, Richie is your fucking master. Genuine romance? The fuck does that even mean? Richie has never had to be sincere to get what he wants. He once winked at a girl while smoking a cigarette and had his mouth on hers two minutes later. To be fair, they were both drunk as fuck at a bar neither of them were old enough to be at but that’s in the past anyway.

Richie had never had to prove himself. How does one prove themselves? He needed to brainstorm.

“Flowers.” Bev was sat cross legged on her bed, an open book in front of her that she hadn’t started reading yet. It was only there because Richie was over with the excuse of studying, and her aunt was crazy strict about boys.

“Eddie has allergies.” Richie swung around on her wheelie chair, staring at the ceiling, praying for inspiration. It had been three days since the carnival, and Richie had been avoiding Eddie at school. It was too easy to fall back into old habits and shout a compliment across the corridor, so he just walked in the opposite direction when he saw the cutie.

He wanted to be genuine, sincere, romantic. Eddie deserved it, no matter how lovely he was to tease.

“How do you know so much about him?”

“Observation skills, my dear Watson.” Richie said in his British Guy Voice, then flopped onto the bed face first and groaned into the sheets, “Help me.”

“You just have to find a way to tell him how you feel. In a way that’s still true to you.”

“True to me means loud and annoying.” Richie’s voice was still muffled by the sheets, but Bev would probably understand him even if he had a sock in his mouth.

“You’re not annoying, Richie.” Bev shoved his shoulder, and he picked his head up, leaving his glasses behind and making his best friend a blur of red hair and a smirk, “You’re definitely loud, though.”

“So, I should loudly declare my feelings for him?”

“Uh- that’s not-”

“That’s a fucking awesome idea, Bevvie!” Richie shoved his glasses back on and jumped off the bed, fizzing with energy. “I’m gonna declare my admiration for Eddie Bear! In the loudest way possible.”

“No- I didn’t-!” Bev tried to shout after him, but he was already out the door, ready to cycle back to his house and think about what his speech would be like.

Obnoxious? Totally.

Romantic? Absolutely.

Only time would tell if it would woo his Eddie on his first chance.

*

The cafeteria was crowded. Richie was sat inside for once, with Bev opposite him and Eddie sat a few tables away with Stan, Bill, and Ben. He watched the boy laugh at something Bill said as he sucked on the straw of his juice box ( _they’re not just for kids, Bev, shut up)_.

Getting up in front of a crowd didn’t really make him nervous, but the fact that Eddie was watching him did. This was one of his chances. Strike one. If Eddie didn’t like it, he only had two left, and that just wouldn’t do. Richie needed to prove that his motives were genuine. He _needed_ to.

Probably feeling his gaze, Eddie looked over and his huge grin turned into a smaller, almost shy smile. Richie smirked around the straw and threw the boy a wink.

“It’s time.” He said to Bev, who bit her lip.

“If you fall off this table, I’m pretending I don’t know you.”

Richie ignored her. He dropped the empty juice box on his tray and pushed it aside, so he could step up onto the table.

“Can I have your attention please!” There were no teachers in the room, just the lunch ladies giving him dubious looks. He probably had a minute or two before a teacher heard him shouting and came in to tell him off. “I’d like all you fuckers to know that I, Richie Tozier, am totally in-like with one Eddie Kaspbrak.” He gestured to Eddie’s table, where the boy in question had his mouth open in shock. Stan was only just keeping in his laughter, and Bill wasn’t even trying to hold it in, “He’s cute as a fucking button, you know. My Eddie Spaghetti is smart, hot, and _worked_ fanny packs until he sacked them off last year. Who can even pull off fanny packs? None of you fuckers could!” He adjusted his glasses and did a slow turn, making sure he was addressing everyone in the room. He could hear Bev’s quiet chuckles at his feet.

“He makes you dickwads look like a collective wart on an unwashed hobo’s hairy ball sack. Not even a small socially acceptable wart. You’re warped and bulbous and bigger than one of his balls.” He grabbed his crotch then pointed at Eddie. “This guy puts you all to shame! And I want you to know that he’s the only man in my life, and you lot can’t fucking compete.” He fell into his French Voice, not daring look at Eddie yet, “Zis iz a lesson to all of you idiotz! He iz cute, cute, _cute!”_

He looked over his shoulder and saw a teacher rapidly approaching and laughed at the stern look on his beady little face.

“This has been Richie Tozier, telling you that Eddie Spaghetti is a fucking diamond in a sea of shit heads.” He picked up his juice box and held it up like a microphone, “MC Tozier _out!”_ He dropped the juice box in front of him and got dragged off the table by the teacher.

On his way out the room, he looked over to Eddie whose eyes were wide, a huge grin breaking out on his face. Bill and Stan were losing their shit next to him. Richie saluted them and winked at Eddie before getting his arm yanked and exiting the cafeteria.

He wasn’t too far away to hear the applause and laughter, but whether they were laughing at him or with him, he didn’t care. This was all for Eds anyway.

*

The Declaration, as Richie had started to call it in his head, resulted in two weeks of detention after school and during lunch. It didn’t really matter. He got detentions every few weeks, his record was abysmal. It was a good thing he just wanted to go to community college and had enough savings to move the fuck out of his house. Detentions wouldn’t change that.

He exited the principal’s office with a smile on his face.

“That was so stupid.”

“God? Is that you? Because your voice is heavenly.” Richie leered at Eddie, unable to resist with the boy looking so cute right in front of him. His arms were crossed but there was a smile on his face. He was charmed, Richie could tell. He slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and walked down the corridor with him.

“That’s your first chance gone, I hope you know that.”

“You don’t want to go out with me after that?” Richie looked down at his Eddie, who shook his head with a smug smile. He put his hand on Richie’s forearm, and at first, he thought Eddie was going to remove it, but he just held it, his hand sending a shock of warmth up Richie’s arm and to his heart. Jesus Christ, is that what Richie has come to?

“You do shit like that all the time.” Eddie rolled his eyes, “You shout compliments at me, and embarrass yourself in front of crowds of people every day. It’s not exactly proving anything.”

“But it was a genuine speech!”

“You talked about a hobo’s ball sack more than you talked about me.” Eddie said, but there was a blush high on his cheeks and on the tips of his ears, “Bill filmed it, so he could show Mike after school, and it’s probably going to end up online.”

“Mike? Home schooled kid?”

“The very same.” Eddie nodded, “Maybe if you weren’t such an idiot I’d let you hang out with us at the Barrens.”

“Well, Eds, I still have two chances left.” He ruffled the boy’s hair before stepping away and putting some distance between them. “You’re going to believe me when I say I think you’re perfect.”

“I think you’re a player and a tease.”

It stung a little, hearing that, but Richie didn’t let his smile falter.

“You’ll eat those words, Eds Spaghett.”

“ _God,_ how do you keep coming up with worse nicknames?”

“Creative genius, boo.”

Eddie smiled again, that small shy smile that made Richie’s heart skip a beat. This was progress. This was _good_ progress.

If Richie thought his heart couldn’t take seeing the boy and flirting with him constantly, he knew it would explode if they were going to actually talk and potentially go on a date.

He was going to die before chance three.

 

 

 

CHANCE 2: LOVE LETTER

 

Since Bev’s advice lead him exactly nowhere, Richie turned to the only other friend he had.

“Ben, my love, my life, my sunshine.” Richie slipped into the chair opposite Ben in the library. He knew he’d find the kid here, considering the building was his second love, the first being Beverly. There was a huge hard back book open in front of him and Richie picked it up to read the title, “Why the hell are you reading about the history of Derry?”

“It’s interesting.” Ben took the book back and closed it after carefully placing a bookmark to keep the page he was up to. “What do you need?”

“What makes you think I need anything?”

Ben gave him a pointed look. He definitely learned that from Beverly, or maybe Stan.

“We never hang out without Beverly.” Ben said, “And you definitely never come to the library without good reason.”

Richie made a split-second decision between being honest and buttering Ben up. It was no choice, really.

“Benny boy, maybe I just wanted to see your beautiful face. Those chubby cheeks are what get me through the day, you know.”

“He’s t-taken.” Bill suddenly appeared and pulled the chair out from next to Ben and sat down with a not-so-innocent smile, “You f-flirt with everyone like this?”

“Only the pretty ones, baby. Why, you want some of this?” Richie wiggled in his seat and Bill looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“I d-don’t know what Eddie s-sees in you.”

“He sees _greatne-”_ Wait, what? “Eddie sees something in me?”

Bill and Ben exchanged a look and _excuse the fuck me_ they’re not allowed to do that. No excluding Richie! At any time!

“Hey, no lookie looks. Fucking clue me in, assholes.”

“Nothing.” Ben sighed, “Just tell me what you need so I can get back to my reading.”

“A-and so I can leave again.”

“And that.” Ben gestured at Bill, who seemed perfectly comfortable leant back in his chair, man spreading like a fucking… man spreader. Richie looked between them with suspicion.

“I need to figure out how to woo Eddie. I have two chances left and I cannot fuck this up.” He ran a hand through his hair before pointing accusingly at Bill. “You better not tell him about this because I _will_ make your life miserable.”

“How?” Bill said, like a challenge.

“I know how to play the saxophone, and I think careless whisper being played in your ear every time you walk down the corridor would get fucking grating after a while.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“He would.”

“I would.”

Bill looked between Ben and Richie with true fear in his eyes. Exactly the way Richie liked it.

“Okay, so you want to show affection that’s genuine. To prove that you really like him.” Ben said eventually, once Bill finally closed his mouth. He was going to catch flies.

Richie looked around the library, at the creepy old lady down the aisle past their table, and the little boy reading on the table next to them. He took off his jacket with a sigh and leant forward.

“I’m terrible at being genuine. I’m all big jokes and fucking Voices, man. Help me.” He banged his head against the table and heard a hushed ‘ssshh’ from the aisle in front of them. “You shush! I’m having a crisis, lady!”

“Eddie is s-super old fashioned.” Bill shrugged, “He likes o-old movies, old m-m-music. You should throw it b-back if you want him t-to take you seriously.”

Richie nodded, trying to think of things he could do that were old fashioned. Boom box outside his window? No, that was still loud and embarrassing. Mix tape? No, he had no idea what kind of music Eddie liked and too much was left to interpretation. It wasn’t to the point.

“Ben, you write poems, right?” Richie perked up, an idea forming. “I could write a poem! Like- like a fucking haiku or something. They’re good, right?”

“Do you remember the last time you tried to write poetry?” Ben grimaced at the memory.

“What happened the last time he tried to write poetry?”

“Nothing.” Richie karate chopped the air, “Nothing happened. At all.”

“He ended up rhyming ball sack with Kaspbrak.”

“Oh my _God.”_ Bill wheezed.

“I fucking forgot about that.” Richie groaned, his head hitting the table again. “Thanks for reminding me, dickweed.”

“It was last year. Your memory must be appalling.” Ben stated, which just increased Bill’s laughter. No one told _him_ to sshh. This was discrimination against Richie.

“Okay, so not a poem. What else is there?” Richie could only just hear himself over Bill’s laughter.

“Just w-write him a letter, dude.”

“A _love_ letter.” Ben clarified with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Oh _no._ This was not going to end well.

*

“Fuck!” Richie shouted, screwing up the paper and throwing it across his room again. He was laid on his stomach on his bed, a pad of paper in front of him and no fucking inspiration. Everything that came out either sounded wrong or was a joke. He needed genuine and romantic, not obnoxious, and fake.

It helped that his parents were out, somewhere. They weren’t there when Richie got home, so he assumed they were out with friends or some shit. That usually meant they wouldn’t be home till morning, and he’d have to make himself dinner with whatever he could find. He didn’t mind, really.

 

_~~To Eddie Spaghetti~~ _

_~~Dear Eddie~~ _

_~~Yo Bitch~~ _

_Dear Eddie,_

Well, it was a start.

This was going to be a long night.

*

Richie shoved his hands in his pockets. He took them out again. He cracked his knuckles. Bev smacked him.

“What is wrong with you?”

“I wrote Eddie a letter.” Richie gulped, “A really cheesy awful letter that he’s probably reading right now because I left it in his fucking locker and- fuck.”

“That’s sweet.” Bev pinched his cheek.

“Oh please, _Beverly.”_ He smacked her hand away with a scowl. “Don’t act like Ben didn’t tell you.”

She shrugged, not denying it because Richie was totally _right._ He looked down the corridor again, where Eddie would appear if he found the letter and wanted to come to Richie about it. It had been ten fucking minutes since he’d slotted it into the boy’s locker and his heart hadn’t stopped pumping.

He tapped his foot impatiently. Bev gave him a judging look. The school speakers crackled obnoxiously.

Eddie could be opening the letter any moment. He could have already opened it. Oh God, Richie’s heart was really on his fucking sleeve, wasn’t it? Did Eddie even want it? Did he realise how much Richie actually liked him?

“Oh, fuck this.”

He rushed down the corridor, around the corner, and saw Eddie stood at his locker with the envelope in his hand. Just as his fingertips brushed the corner, ready to tear it open, Richie reached him and ripped it out of his hand.

“Nope!” Richie laughed nervously, “Not reading that- no sir-ee.”

“What?” Eddie frowned at him. God, how did he look so beautiful while frowning? “Why not?”

“This was me using my second chance but-” He tapped the envelope with an index finger- “I’m taking it back. Not using it.”

“That’s a waste of a chance, Richie. Just give it here.” Eddie reached out, but Richie stepped back. Eddie grabbed for it again and Richie held it above his head, “What the fuck, Richie? Just give it to me!”

“Not going to happen, Spaghetti man!”

“Oh, come on.” Eddie huffed, getting down from his tiptoes and crossing his arms. He was only inches away from Richie now, red from excursion and huffing cute little breaths. “What could be so embarrassing about that letter?”

“I realised I accidentally wrote about your mother.” Richie shrugged, hoping he looked more nonchalant than he was feeling. Damn that was a close one.

“Beep beep, Richie.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the ‘you’re being an asswipe’ alarm. Specifically, for you. No one else needs it.” Eddie looked up at the letter, still held above Richie’s head, “Are you really not going to give me that?”

“Really, really.”  Richie started walking backwards, planning to run at his first chance. Eddie could never read that letter. God, it was so sappy and disgusting, and Richie didn’t _do_ sappy. He was a jokes man. A man’s man. He’d woo Eddie another way, that involved less embarrassment on Richie’s part.

“One chance left, Tozier. You sure you want to do this?” Eddie’s cute little face was still red, but thankfully he looked more fond than annoyed. His eyes kept flicking to the letter that Richie now had clutched to his chest.

“One chance is all I need, sweetheart.” Richie winked, “You’ll see.”

Eddie simply rolled his eyes and turned away. Despite wanting to run at his first chance, Richie paused for a moment to watch his boy walk away. Those shorts did wonders, they really did. He sighed wistfully. One day, Little Richie, one day that would be theirs. Little Richie preened at the thought.

“One more chance.” Richie nodded to himself, then turned to run back to Beverly and hear about how cowardly he was.

 

CHANCE THREE: BE… KIND?

 

Richie had no more ideas. He was stuck. He’d gone to Bev for help, he’d gone to Ben, and now there was no one left. Well, sure, he could go to Stan, but did that guy even know what romance was? Richie thought not. He probably cared more about the mating habits of birds than the mating habits of humans. It was kind of fair, actually, considering birds did awesome dances and had colourful feathers to attract mates. Then again, didn’t humans do that too? That was what a club was for, after all.

He was getting off topic.

“Wooing Eddie,” Richie muttered to himself, pacing his room, “to woo the spaghetti. Wooing of Eds.”

He kicked at a t-shirt strewn on his floor. He really needed to clean this shit tip. _No_ , off topic again.

Eddie.

“Eddie.” He said aloud, waving a hand, “Eds, Eddie Spaghetti. Mr Eds Spaghetts. Spaghetti? Dinner? No. Fuck, Richie, what are you thinking? That’s a date! He doesn’t want to date you!” _Yet,_ his traitor brain supplied, “Shut up, brain.”

A door slammed downstairs, and Richie froze. He listened for footsteps. They were light, so it must’ve been his mom. They were quickly followed by heavier ones, and then the shouting started. Richie held in a groan.

He slipped on his denim jacket, stuffed a few dollars from his bedside table in his pocket, and slipped out of the window as silently as years of practise would allow him. Silent enough that the shouting didn’t even falter. He picked up his bike from behind the gate leading to the backyard and cycled off in now particular direction.

He wasn’t particularly scared anymore, that faded after a while, mostly when Richie was old enough to understand they weren't shouting at him. It just made him sad. He was wistful for a normal family, one that ate dinner together and talked about their day.

Fuck it. No use in dwelling.

One option was Bev’s, but it was hard to sneak in and it was already late. Friday night or no, Bev’s aunt was a quiet and strict woman that didn’t approve of boys in the bedroom, never mind secret ones.

Another option was Ben, but that kid would probably be asleep himself at this time so that was totally out.

So, Richie just cycled. He cycled through the main town, past the graffitied store fronts and shuttered windows. He felt the wind send his hair flying, only just keeping his glasses on his face. It was freeing.

Around half an hour into the ride, he saw a bike abandoned by an alley and skidded to a stop. He walked up with his bike at his side, wheeling next to him, expecting the worst. He held his breath until he could see fully into the alley.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, making the boy in the alley jump out of his skin and the cat he was stroking run away.

“Dude,” The boy, who Richie now recognised as Mike Hanlon, sighed, and stood up, “it took so long to get that cat to approach me.”

“You come here often?” Richie leaned against the corner of the building to the left of the alley, aiming for a teasing tone, “That’s not a come on, by the way.”

“I know. You’re Richie.” Mike tilted his head in acknowledgment, “You’re obsessed with Eddie, so you’d never flirt with me.”

“I’m a natural flirt.” Richie shrugged, “And wait, obsessed? I’m not obsessed.”

Mike gave him a long, purely judging look. Were him and Stan different raced clones? Was that possible?

“I saw the speech you gave the other day. Beautiful metaphors, by the way.”

“I’m nothing if not poetic.” Richie adjusted his glasses. He came here to clear his head of Eddie and his stupid cute face and shorts, not be reminded of how infatuated he was with him.

“Right.” Mike laughed, then lead the way out of the alley and picked his bike up, “You headed somewhere specific?”

“Nah, just wanted to clear my head. Saw your bike and assumed you were being beaten up or some shit.”

“It isn’t the 80s.” Mike rolled his eyes, “Shit like that doesn’t really happen around here anymore.”

“Well excuse me for caring, Michael.” Richie hopped on his bike, done with whatever this interaction was. He was still on edge, despite the mind clearing wind, and wanted to go down a big hill, or maybe off a cliff, “I’ll see you around.”

“Mind if I give you some advice before you go?” Mike was straddling the frame in front of the seat, his smile reassuring.

“Sure, bucko. Shoot.”

“Eddie is a simple guy.” Mike started, eyes turning fond, “He doesn’t need a big declaration or some cheesy romantic stuff to get him to realise you like him. Just show interest, be kind. He’ll believe you then.”

Richie bit his lip. Be kind? Was Mike really telling Richie Trashmouth Tozier to be kind? Fuck, like that was going to happen.

He thought about Eddie, about how he always had his guard up, was usually frowning or looking over his shoulder like he was waiting for something bad to happen. Yeah, he could see why the guy would appreciate some kindness.

“Thanks.” Richie said eventually, “I’ll think about it, Homeschool.”

He didn’t wait for Mike to reply, simply cycling off in search of somewhere to go to make his head stop spinning.

No big declaration and only one chance left.

Fucking baller.

*

The weekend meant one of two things. Either Richie’s parents felt like being assholes and made him feel unwelcome enough in his own home to either leave or hide in his bedroom, or he had the time of his life fucking around with his only two friends.

Hopefully, this weekend would be the latter.

His mom was sleeping soundly in the bedroom when Richie woke up Saturday morning, and his dad was nowhere to be found, which wasn’t unusual. He went downstairs, ate some dry cereal from the box, and texted Bev to meet him at the Aladdin so they could see the new comedy out. Richie hadn’t actually seen the trailer, but Bill Hader was in it and that guy was always fucking hilarious.

They chatted shit and threw popcorn at each other, then Bev had to leave for a date with Ben and Richie had to occupy himself.

He went to the arcade, which was practically empty considering most people owned a console these days, and fucked around on a few machines for an hour or so.

His interaction with Mike was still running around his mind. He had to be kind and genuine, but it was so hard to _plan_ something like that. How could he orchestrate a situation where he could show Eddie he cared? Where would he even start?

He was walking over the kissing bridge, head down and thoughts spinning, when a yelp came from down the slope to his right. Richie stopped in his tracks.

“ _Shit_.”

The yelp was followed by a quiet groan, someone clearly in pain, and before he knew it Richie was jumping over the fence and shuffling his way through the brambles to where the sound was coming from.

The person’s silhouette could only just be seen between the trees, but Richie would know those red shorts anywhere.

“Hey, Spaghetti head, what’s up?”

Eddie was facing away from him, and his shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice. Richie watched as the boy wiped his face a few times before looking over at him.

“I fell.” He stated simply, his eyes puffy and red.

“Well, shit.” Richie made his way over and crouched in front of Eddie. He didn’t dare meet the boy’s eyes, his heart already going a mile a minute, and focused on where Eddie was clutching his ankle. He gently moved his fingers and got a good look, “Hey, it’s okay. Just a sprain.”

“How can you tell?” Eddie’s voice was wet and shaky, which Richie chose to ignore. He was clearly embarrassed and pointing out how weepy he sounded probably wouldn’t help matters. Richie kept his trash mouth shut for once.

“It’d start to swell, and I’m putting a little pressure on it which would hurt a fuckload more if there was a break.” He ran a thumb over the bone on the outside of Eddie’s ankle, “You can wiggle your toes, right?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied quietly. Richie finally looked up at him and tried not to let out an adoring squeal. His face was blotchy and red, polo neck askew, and there were some grazes up his arm that didn’t look too bad. Richie assessed one near Eddie’s elbow that looked a bit painful.

“I should have-” He dug around in his pockets and found a little pack of antiseptic wipes and plasters that he kept for emergencies. It was mostly because both he and Bev were clumsy as shit and ended up hurt more often than not- “ah! Here. Do you want to do it?”

Eddie nodded slowly, taking a wipe, and going over the graze a few times before carefully putting a plaster over it. His face was still red, but it wasn’t from crying.

“Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed.” Richie winked, “Any cutie like you falling in the woods is just gonna get snapped up by a charming prince. And you’re pretty when you cry.”

“No, I’m not.” Eddie scoffed.

“Nah, probably not.” Richie sat back, putting a comfortable distance between them so Eddie didn’t feel enclosed, “But everything you do is pretty to me, so.” He shrugged.

Eddie considered him for a moment, his lips pursed. It was quiet, way too quiet for Richie’s liking. He suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands, or face, or, well, anything.

“Want me to carry you wherever you need to go?” Richie held his hands up in a placating gesture when Eddie glared, “Not like a princess, despite you being as pretty as one. I can give you a piggy back.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yeah? If you need to pharmacy, or the shop, I’ll carry you there. I might drop you a few times but-”

“No, I mean-” Eddie groaned- “You’re serious. You’re being all- all nice and- and looking after me. You really like me, don’t you?”

“Of course, I like you.” Richie ducked his head, “I saw how cute you were from the moment I met you, and since then all you’ve done is make me like you more.”

“You barely even know me.” Eddie said, but it was more in awe than disbelief.

“I want to.” Richie bit his lip. This was getting far too close to opening up and sappy territory, “I still have one more chance to prove that. Working out the kinks on that plan. I saw Mike last night and he-”

“Fuck the chances.” Eddie’s eyes were light with fire, and Richie felt his jaw go slack.

“What?”

“I said fuck the chances, Richie. I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Well, dear,” Oh God, it was happening. Richie was falling into his Southern Belle Voice because he didn’t know what else to do, “I’ll be darned. Yer gonna take lil’ ol’ me out on the town with yer cute self. Well, praise be!”

Eddie laughed, a bright and beautiful sound that Richie never wanted to stop hearing.

“Carry me up the hill and we can go to that diner a few blocks over.” Eddie smirked, “On you, of course.”

“On one condition.”

“What?”

“I get to carry you like a princess.”

“ _Fuck no.”_

Their laughter rang out in the wood, and Richie thanked what powers may be that he decided to be a little asshole and force Eddie to ride the Ferris wheel with him.

 

*

 

_~~To Eddie Spaghetti~~ _

_~~Dear Eddie~~ _

_~~Yo Bitch~~ _

_Dear Eddie,_

_You told me to prove that I like you and honestly??? I have no fucking idea how to do that. You’re so amazing, Eds, you make me stir crazy. All I can do when I see you walking down the hall is word vomit whatever dumb thing comes into my mind. You’re cuter than anyone I’ve ever seen._

_I think you’re the only person I’ve really liked. I’ve spent so long just throwing myself at people, anyone, so that maybe I can stop thinking about you. It never works. I’m so cocky and ostentatious because I want you to notice me. I’ve only ever wanted you to notice me._

_There are so many things I (genuinely and completely) like about you, so I’m going to list them without explanation:_

_Your smile_

_Your hair_

_Your bravery_

_Your knowledge_

_Your obsession with neatness and cleanliness_

_Your legs_

_Your eyes_

_Your take-no-shit attitude_

_I could go on forever, but I should probably stop._

_You got any idea how much you mean to me, Eds? You’re the fucking world, okay? I’m sat in my shitty room not knowing where my shitty parents are and you know what’s on my mind??? What’s always on my mind?_

_YOU!_

_I hope this shows you what you mean to me, what you really mean._

_Love,_

_Richie_

**Author's Note:**

> might do a sequel of them actually dating if people are interested??? i'm sorry there was no kiss or anything but i felt like eddie would build up to it, not just smack one on him you know
> 
> thanks for reading!!
> 
> tumblr: kaspcrap


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